A mink hunts in the creek-side meadow, weaving through currant bushes where juncos bathe and groom, neither paying attention to the other.

The first half-inch of snow. A mink appears along the creek, looping over and under the snow-laden grass like a dark needle and thread.

A large, dark weasel flushes a rabbit from cover and stops, rearing up on its hind legs: mink! We stare at each other with mutual disbelief.